


Smouldering Shoulders

by almaasi



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Body Positivity, DS9 is the worst place to live, Drama, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated, M/M, Romance, Size Difference, and said “I want that twink padded”, hyperthermia, set mid season 6, this fic is a lowkey ‘screw you’ to whichever Star Trek producer looked at Siddig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:41:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23075695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi
Summary: DS9 is overheating and everyone sensible evacuates, but Garak stays behind to help Julian fix the climate controls. Being a Cardassian, Garak can stand the heat – but even with his enhancements, Julian is still Human. Luckily Garak is there to save him when he passes out. In probably the least sexy way possible, Garak discovers the muscle-shaped padding Julian has been wearing under his clothes for years... And a few other personal things about his dear friend, besides.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 53
Kudos: 347





	Smouldering Shoulders

**Author's Note:**

> [THIS padding](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/190806254140/noxfoxarts-mkkstartrek-sid-displaying-the). *hisses*
> 
> Julian’s uniform undershirt onesie in this fic was inspired by [this sewing pattern](https://i.etsystatic.com/6795864/r/il/46725e/749372401/il_794xN.749372401_lfmt.jpg) by [BadWolfCostumes on Etsy](https://www.etsy.com/listing/199160450/star-trek-sewing-pattern-starfleet).
> 
> Fic beta’d by my sister [Amara](https://sweetdreamspootypie.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Celsius/centigrade is used in this fic (and in canon) to measure temperature. Just for reference, 44°C is about 111°F, 50°C is 122°F, and 71°C is almost 160°F. (Human body temperature is 37°C.)
> 
> (Also, “Smouldering” is spelled the British way, with an unnecessary but _entirely_ correct U.)

“Chief, re _port_.”

Chief O’Brien puffed out a small breath and straightened up from his console, wiping his sweaty face in the crook of his elbow. “Well, Captain,” he said tiredly, “the climate control systems are kaput. From what I have access to here, looks like they’re about as broken as they can get.”

Sisko’s expression was livid, a look only added to by the sheen of perspiration on his dark skin. “I _know_ they’re _broken_ , Mr. O’ _Brien_ ,” he said. “The entire station is smouldering like a _damn_ oven. I could cook a Cajun stew on my dining room table, if I could only _get_ to my quarters! What about the doors, Chief, why are the doors not working?”

“They’re... broken too, sir,” O’Brien said, as stoicially as he could manage. In this unbearable heat all he wanted to do was wheeze and grunt. “I could give you an ETA on the repairs, but I’m – hff’h – pretty sure even running a full diagnostic would take longer than I can feasibly remain standing. Sir.”

Sisko growled deep and low, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes shut. “Begin a diagnostic anyway.”

“Aye sir.”

Captain Sisko looked over at Major Kira, who was lying on the metal floor in her sleeveless crochet vest, desperately fanning herself with a padd. Sisko then looked over at Worf, who was cross-legged at his post, meditating to avoid stating “It is too _hot_ ” one more time and getting hit by someone’s projectile. Dax was downing her sixth iced drink, clinging to the replicator and looking frantic, hair stuck to her cheeks.

“Sir,” Dr. Bashir said. He stood in the middle of Ops, wearing his full jumpsuit uniform and zipped-up turquoise undershirt, looking mildly distressed. All he’d done was roll up his sleeves and popped open his collar. “I should remind you that the majority of Humanoid lifeforms on this station can’t survive for long in high temperatures. We’re nearing forty-four degrees centigrade. And the heat’s rising one degree every eight minutes, on average. In an hour we’ll be facing widespread illness beyond my capabilities to treat, and in two we’ll have multiple casualties.”

Kira whispered from her place on the floor, “Gonna take... three-plus hours to evacuate to Bajor. Five hundred people. No time for that. So we go’hh... gotta take the Defiant. Every escape pod. Runabouts. Cram everyone on. Not safe, but safer than here.”

“I can’t breathe,” Jadzia whispered, between sips of iced juice.

Sisko t’sked, baring his teeth. “That’s _it_ ,” he said in resignation, clicking his fingers. “Do as the major said. Chief, cancel diagnostic and take us to red alert.”

The overhead lights in Ops dimmed and began to flash red.

“Evacuate the station,” Sisko said, every word dripping with chagrin. “Until we can find whoever the _hell_ stole our environmental protection suits, and someone can fix the controls, we cannot remain here. Kasidy’s freighter is still docked – Mr. Worf, coordinate with the crew and have them take on passengers. Dr. Bashir—”

Sisko swung back to look at the doctor, who was the only one unmoving as the others picked themselves up and sluggishly got to work on the evacuation.

“Doctor, you seem unaffected.”

Bashir nodded and shrugged one of his wide shoulders. “One of the blessings of being genetically enhanced, I suppose. I can regulate my body temperature, to a certain extent.”

“Is it possible for you to fix the climate controls?”

The doctor opened his mouth and left it open. “Aaaah,” he said. “I did take some remedial engineering courses at Starfleet, sir, and I— I’m okay at fixing things, it’s true, but given the time pressures and the knowledge I have compared to the Chief’s—”

“Chief, if we set up a commlink back to the station from the Defiant, can you talk the doctor through it?”

“Yes, sir. Easily.”

Sisko nodded firmly, and the doctor nodded back.

“You’ll stay behind, doctor. If all else fails and the heat becomes too much for you, Constable Odo informs me Quark’s charging for the use of his bar’s refrigerator. I’m sure you’d fit inside.”

The doctor smirked, head down. “Aye, sir.”

  
★  


Garak, more than anything, was annoyed he’d been told to evacuate as well. He had hemming to do and deadlines to meet, and it wasn’t like he _minded_ being comfortably warm. Too many years of stiff shoulders and a numb nose had gone by for him not to experience relief at a sudden aggressive heatwave.

Although, he supposed, as he was wafted towards an airlock by one of the flush-faced Bajoran security officers and jostled by a dozen sweaty civilians, it was maybe intended as a compliment that Odo considered him to be in danger too. Someone cared about his welfare. That was a nice thought, perhaps. If hugely unwarranted.

He ducked aside at the last moment, unwilling to be forced onto a tiny runabout with fifty other people, packed in like those preserved fish in small metal containers that Julian occasionally used as a comparative metaphor. Sardines. That was it.

Garak was not going to be a sardine today.

He snuck away down a quieter corridor, glancing around to check if anyone had noticed. It did worry him somewhat that he might be left on DS9 alone. And ‘too hot’ was certainly a thing, even for a Cardassian. He probably ought to evacuate. It wouldn’t be so bad on the Defiant – there was more room on that ship, and the Ops crew were likely to take up posts there. So Julian would be there.

“Computer,” Garak announced to the hallway, “locate Julian Bashir.”

“ _Dr. Julian Bashir is in access tunnel fourteen._ ”

“Is he? Are you quite certain?”

“ _Confirmed. Dr. Julian Bashir is in access tunnel fourteen._ ”

“That’s nowhere _near_ the airlocks.”

Garak checked back towards his designated evacuation point, fretting about his own survival, but then decided he would not be intimidated by a little hot air or loneliness. And he wouldn’t be alone, in any case: he was interested in what his dear doctor was doing, as he clearly wasn’t about to disembark along with everyone else.

  
★  


“All good?” Julian attached a tiny sticky-backed camera to his uniform front and adjusted it to point in the right direction. “Can you see my hands now?”

On a padd on the floor nearby, Miles nodded. “ _Yyyep. Got you. Wave?_ ”

Julian waved, and Miles made a sound of satisfaction, seeing the video feed on board the Defiant. Julian watched his padd screen: behind Miles, Jadzia and Kira gave sighs of mild jubilation, and Captain Sisko threw up his hands and looked away in relief.

“ _Alright,_ ” Miles said, preparing for the task ahead. “ _How’s the temperature?_ ”

“Hotter in the tubes,” Julian said. “But bearable. Nearing fifty degrees.”

“ _Whewf!_ ” Miles shook his head. “ _Boy, am I glad the air conditioning works on the Defiant. Get further down the tunnel and take a left, Julian. I need to take a look behind that door. The processing unit for the station's controls are in there – if something’s up with them it would explain a lot about the random lockouts and climate malfunctions._ ”

“On my way.” Julian stuffed the extra cameras back into his engineering toolkit, stuck the padd displaying Miles’ face into a side pocket, shucked the strap over his shoulder, and started crawling.

Sisko uttered, “ _Take us into orbit of the station, Mr. Worf. Dax, I want you to keep tabs on the other ships, make sure everyone’s doing alright._ ” There came a _blip!_ as he tapped his combadge. “ _Sisko to Odo. Is everyone off the station?_ ”

“ _All except four, I’m afraid,_ ” Odo said. “ _Those remaining include myself, Dr. Bashir... and Quark, who’s taken up residence in his bar’s refrigerator and is stubbornly refusing to leave in order to get to the final escape shuttle. Every time he peeks out he says it’s too hot to bear and goes back inside and locks the door – like a Joranian ostrich with its_ head _underwater._ ”

“ _Beam Quark out of there, Major,_ ” Sisko uttered in exasperation. “ _Odo, drop the station’s shields._ ”

“ _Can’t get a lock through the fridge,_ ” Kira said. “ _I’m gonna take the whole thing._ ”

Julian sighed. “There goes _my_ safe haven.”

Miles assured him, “ _I’ll get you through this as fast as I can manage, Julian. Worse comes to worst we’ll beam you out, too._ ”

“ _Captain,_ ” Odo said.

“ _Go ahead, Constable._ ”

“ _The fourth lifeform remaining aboard is Garak._ ”

Julian stopped crawling. “ _Garak_?!”

“Ah, doctor!” Garak peered in from the end of the tunnel ahead. “There you are.”

Sisko sighed.

Julian crawled out of the tunnel and stood up in the connection bay, peering at Garak in perplexed disdain. “What the hell are you doing here? The station’s been exacuated.”

“I see you haven’t taken Odo’s advice any more than I have.”

“I’m staying behind to fix the controls. Why are you here?”

“No doubt you could use some company, doctor.”

Julian huffed and bent to crawl into the next tube along, heading for the Processor Room. “What I could _use_ is a hand getting the door open. I’m strong but it’s still a two-person job.”

Garak crawled along behind him. “I see you’re carrying a bag of remote spy cameras and a padd with a live feed of the Defiant’s bridge. Am I correct in thinking your friends are looking in on you?”

“Miles is going to guide me through the repairs.”

“You can’t do it yourself?”

“I’m genetically enhanced, Garak, that doesn’t make me God. I don’t magically know everything. Miles knows... well, _miles_ more about engineering than I ever will.” He came out of the tunnel and stood before the double doors of the Processor Room, then reached back to help Garak out and to his feet. “Come to think of it, Garak, you’re probably better suited to this job than I am. Not only do you know oodles about engineering, you _like_ the heat.”

“Revel in it, in fact,” Garak agreed. “Although I will admit that it is getting rather toasty inside this tunic of mine.” He patted his middle. “Perhaps I made a mistake in putting on my thickest piece this morning.”

“Feel free to strip down,” Julian uttered with a grin and an eye roll, turning for the doors. “Right after you get me inside here.”

They each stood at one of the doors – and with a heave-ho and a lot of grunting and foot-stomping, the sliding doors were forced apart. A wave of scalding heat came flowing out, tickling the fine hairs on the backs of Julian’s fingers.

“God, it’s like a furnace in here,” he breathed, feeling sweat start to trickle down his lower back. “Miles, we’re in.”

“ _I can’t see anything._ ”

“That’s because it’s dark – but there’s blinking pilot lights on all the machines, I can see enough. Hang on, I’ll find a clip-on torch.” Julian began to rummage through the bag he carried. “What do we do first?”

“ _Get a camera stuck on Garak, he can tackle another section._ ”

“Got it.” Julian found himself a head light, settled the strap around his head and the light base over his forehead, and switched it on. A pale strobe settled to a strong white beam after some adjustment, and then Julian bowed his head, finding another camera and torch for Garak.

He looked up to find Garak pulling his tunic over his head.

“If you wouldn’t mind looking away,” Garak said, free of his tunic and glaring defiantly at Julian. “I’d rather the entire bridge crew not see me in my underwear.”

Julian smirked, covering his camera with a hand, as Garak took off his knee-high boots, then started to remove his trousers.

“Too hot for you?” Julian teased.

“I marvel that it’s not too hot for _you_ ,” Garak said, coming closer to let Julian place a camera on the muslin fabric he wore like shorts-and-t-shirt pyjamas. His arms were bare, and Julian pretended not to be fascinated by the ridges that extended down his biceps from his shoulders. “If you happened to want to take your clothes off in my presence, doctor, I would not object.”

“ _For God’s sake, Julian,_ ” Miles uttered. “ _Tell your lizard friend we can all hear him flirting._ ”

Julian scowled. “He’s not a lizard. And he’s not flirting, he’s just being considerate.”

“ _Uh-huh. Alright, we’ve got Garak’s feed transmitting live. Garak, wave._ ”

Garak bent and straightened his fingers a few times, smiling at Julian as he did.

“ _We’re looking at Garak’s-eye-view – Julian, your hair’s a right bird’s nest. Are you seriously still wearing your uniform?_ ”

“I’m fine, everyone stop worrying,” Julian chided. “Now come on. What do we do?”

“ _Garak, you get around the back, get me a look at the stuff closer to the wall, that’s the main processing unit. Julian, on your right – yeah, there – get down near the base of the smallest processor. We need to figure out what the humming noise is. It’s not meant to do that._ ”

“Everything’s humming,” Julian said. “Absolutely everything.”

“ _Sounds like it’s all overheating, then._ ”

“Surprise surprise,” Julian uttered.

Garak and Julian went their separate ways, inching around the ten feet of metal and motors, their head lamps giving Miles a good, clear view of everything their hands opened up and tugged at.

Cables and wires and flashing lights made little sense to Julian, but he let his fingers trail along each, and Miles hummed about it all, giving directions to move along and examine the next section.

They spent ten minutes moving from processor to processor, checking each for obvious faults or sabotage with Miles giving instructions, his voice coming from both Julian’s combage and the padd Julian had propped in the middle of the room. But the temperature rose and rose and nothing came to light.

Julian started to feel uncomfortably thirsty, but sustained himself by swallowing every tiniest fleck of his own saliva. He moved to the next box along, completely out of view of Garak now. He took a moment to puff out some air, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

“ _How’s it going, Julian?_ ” Miles asked.

“Just—” Julian panted. “I’m fine. Bit of a headache.” He didn’t even mention the swoops of nausea and lightheadedness that came on the tail of pain. Heat exhaustion was taking hold of him, and he mentally berated himself for not bringing a bottle of water with him on this mission. Apparently even superpowered Humans could make shortsighted decisions. Perhaps the heat had been affecting him for longer than he realised.

He palmed sweat off his temples and blinked hard, trying to refocus his blurry eyes. “Wh— Where now?”

“ _Well, no obvious fault in the machines. See if you can find the source of the heat. That room’s always warm but it shouldn’t be making_ you _of all people pant like that._ ”

“It’s everywhere, Miles. The heat, it’s everywhere. Ouhh—” Julian caught himself against a wall of blinking lights, resting his head down on the back of his hand. “Oh, I’m dizzy.”

“ _Alright, that’s enough. Take a break._ ”

“And go where? The whole station’s well over fifty... fifty sssomething.” Julian swallowed dry, taking a deep breath that seemed to do absolutely nothing inside him, exhaled just as hotly. “Just. Need. Hm. Need a moment.”

With expert mental control, he urged his temperature lower. His body’s response to his efforts was to sweat more, desperately trying to vent heat. He felt like he was pulsing cold. Uncomfortable as it was, the process was effective. But he needed to concentrate on his job, he couldn’t devote so much conscious time to keeping himself cool. Something else needed to be done.

Weak-handed, he reached up and pawed at his Starfleet uniform collar, stretching the textured grey fabric until it revealed his wide shoulders. He kept pulling until he could wriggle his jumpsuit down, and then slid his arms free. With his jumpsuit torso ragged around his waist, he felt somewhat refreshed.

He reapplied the sticky camera to his turquoise undershirt, then got himself to his feet, then told Miles, “I’ll look around the edges of the room. See if there’s any hot air coming in.”

“There’s only one vent in here,” Garak said. He stood up, and Julian saw his dark hair bob up above a processing unit. A pale hand reached up towards a shadowy wall, and then reached further. Fingertips touched to the vent grate as Julian got there.

“Well, Chief,” Garak said, “I believe I’ve located the source of the problem.”

Julian reached to touch the vent too, and nodded. “It’s not doing anything at all.”

“ _Ahhhh._ ” Miles sighed, knowing. “ _Yeah. Processors always run hot. Blocked air vent leads to a heat overload. Machines can’t handle it and they started malfunctioning – locking doors, breaking environmental controls. Makes sense. Get that vent open and figure out what’s going on in there._ ”

Julian hummed, scraping around for his bag of equipment, only to realise it wasn’t there. So he paced back the way he’d come, getting down on all fours to crawl towards where he’d left the bag.

Halfway there he was overcome by a pang of dizziness and discomposure, and he groaned and sagged towards the floor. Resting his forehead on the metal only dislodged his torchlight and made him whine; the floor was burning hot.

“ _Garak,_ ” Miles said. “ _Garak, check on Julian. I think he’s collapsed._ ”

“Nuh!” Julian sniffed and knelt up. “I’m fine. Still functioning.” He groped for the bag, then got up and passed it to Garak over a machine block, too exhausted to walk around. “If you need me I’ll... I’ll. Hmmm.” He melted to the floor and slumped against the wall of lights, overtaken by nausea and so much dizziness that he couldn’t even tell which side of his neck Garak touched to check his racing pulse.

“You’re not looking too well, doctor. Computer, what temperature is it in here?”

The computer voice came out a little distorted. “ _Temp’ratu’e in Proces— Room is seventy-one-point— de’g-rrs centigrade._ ”

“ _Jesus Christ,_ ” Miles whispered. “ _Get him out of there, Garak._ ”

“That was my plan, Mr. O’Brien,” Garak said. He took Julian around the waist, and grunted as he strained to lift him to his feet. Julian went up like a ragdoll, incapable of keeping himself upright. Garak flopped him around and held onto him, half carrying, half dragging him towards the jammed-open doors.

Out in the hallway was only about fifteen degrees cooler, and no brighter; most of the overhead lights had gone out while they’d been in the room. Garak took Julian a short distance down the hallway until he found an air vent blowing out marginally cooler air, then plopped him down against a wall.

Julian groaned faintly, trying to say he was fine, except he started to think maybe he wasn’t fine when his head lolled forward and he saw nothing but flashing spots and blurry darkness.

“I think you’d best lie down, doctor,” Garak said, taking Julian by the shoulders, supporting his head with a hand as he turned him and lay him on his back. “And forgive me, but I can’t imagine your uniform is of much use to you now.”

Julian vaguely felt his shoes and socks coming off – gently, so gently, one at a time – then his jumpsuit was eased down from his waist, pulled under his buttocks and then down his bare legs.

“It’s not only mechanical processors that can’t stand the heat, doctor,” Garak said. “A miracle of genetic engineering you may be, yet you remain quite beautifully Human.”

  
★  


Dear Julian managed to open his eyes, and it took him a couple of seconds to meet Garak’s gaze. Garak reached to touch the doctor’s forehead, noting that his skin was cool to the touch. He was still sweating, which was a relief; his body was still fighting to wick away the heat. Garak knew that the moment a hyperthermic person ceased to sweat, having run out of water, they were toying with death.

Garak let his hand move to Julian’s heart. His palm rested on his turquoise undershirt, which was actually a one-piece bodysuit, like legless underpants and a long-sleeved shirt in one. Despite it being skin-tight, Garak couldn’t feel Julian’s heartbeat through it, only dense pectoral muscles. Odd. Worrying.

“Garak to Captain Sisko,” Garak said.

“ _Sisko here. Go ahead._ ” 

“The doctor needs to be beamed to safety immediately. He’s no longer wearing his combadge; lock on to the prostrate body before me.”

“ _Acknowledged._ ” Sisko’s voice came through the Starfleet badge on Julian’s discarded jumpsuit, and Garak lifted the badge with his free hand, attaching it to his own underwear.

There was a wait. Garak heard the distant, concerned tone of Kira’s voice. Soon Odo added to the muttering.

Then Sisko said clearly through the commlink, “ _Mr. Garak, it seems the station’s shields refuse to drop. We can’t beam anyone in or out._ ”

“Ah, another malfunction.”

“ _We can’t help you from here, at least not right now. Chief—_ ”

“ _On it, Captain,_ ” O’Brien said. “ _But if I’m any good at my job, bringing down the shields from the outside is going to be impossible. They’re specifically designed_ not _to do that._ ”

“Then it seems I’m at a crossroads,” Garak said, chest feeling tight. “Our beloved doctor requires urgent medical care, but the time it will take me to acquire him water will only worsen the deadly situation in the Processor Room, therefore invalidating any help I offer him. Unblocking the vent may eventually fix the issue and save Julian, but endanger him further in the meantime.” Garak swallowed, feeling Julian’s weak hand take the back of his, fingers sliding to hold on. His eyes were closed, his lips dry and parted. “I don’t know what to do,” Garak said quietly. “I couldn’t bear if harm came to him. But he is already in _grave_ danger.” A soft breath, steeling his nerves. “Requesting orders, Captain.”

“ _Sisko to Odo._ ”

“ _Odo here._ ”

“ _Forget station security. There’s a blocked air vent in the Processor Room just off access tunnel fourteen. Get in there and unblock it, stat. I don’t care how many locked doors or security systems you have to blast through on your way from the Promenade. Just get there._ ”

“ _Acknowledged._ ”

“ _Garak,_ ” Sisko said. “ _I order you to fetch our_ beloved _Dr. Bashir a tall glass of cold water._ ”

“Thank you, Captain.” Garak lifted Julian’s hand, kissed it, then let it fall as he left him and hurried for the nearest replicator.

  
★  


Garak returned with six glasses of ice-cold water, crammed tightly together so they didn’t slip. A jug would’ve been ideal, but he’d had to request water from the glitching replicators a dozen times before they complied, and a jug seemed too much to hope for. He knelt beside Julian, eyes on the opening to the Processor Room. He could hear tinkering inside, followed by a crash and a grumpy grunt, and determined it was Odo realising he couldn’t ooze his way into a blocked vent, and had to unscrew it first.

Glasses down on the carpet, Garak reached to touch Julian’s cheek to tell him he had water – but chilled in terror when he found him unconscious and unresponsive.

“Doctor.” Garak patted a cheek, then pried open one eye, peering into Julian’s constricted pupil with the head torch. “Julian?”

“ _Is he breathing?_ ” Chief O’Brien asked.

Garak held the back of his hand over Julian’s lips, yet was unable to give O’Brien an answer; the air was too hot.

A touch to Julian’s neck permitted glorious relief: there was a pulse. It was weak and thready, but there.

“Don’t be so unkind to me, my dear,” Garak said lightly, while his insides were tearing apart. “If I wanted to lose you I’d have killed you myself.” With that, he tore down Julian’s turquoise shirt zipper, pulling the undershirt free from his arms and widening the seam all the way to his groin – but there he paused.

Julian was wearing... some sort of armour? It was dark blue and form-fitting, bulging over his shoulders, pectorals, and his abdomen, where the armour separated into six pockets of...

Garak poked it...

Padding?

It must have some defensive qualities, he decided. Armour.

“Believe me,” Garak whispered, eyes up as he winced and started to peel the stretchy under-fabric up off Julian’s torso, fingers slicked by his sweat, “there are far worse dangers than phaser or rifle fire, my dear doctor. Armour in an environment like this does you far more harm than good.”

“ _Armour? He’s wearing armour?_ ”

Garak sighed. “I’ll update you on our status soon enough, Mr. O’Brien.”

“ _He— Wait, but—_ ”

“Bashir out,” Garak said.

Julian’s combadge went silent.

Julian stirred into consciousness as Garak’s hands were halfway up his chest, trying to configure the armour into a position where he could pull it off Julian’s shoulders and over his head without injuring an arm muscle.

“Glad to see you awake,” Garak said to him. “If you would be so helpful as to raise your arms, I think you’ll be more comfortable.”

Julian, dazed as he was, comprehended enough to let his arms flop over his head, sprawled out down the hallway.

Garak pulled the armour off the rest of the way, and sighed in gladness once it was gone. Then he looked down at Julian and saw someone suddenly a lot thinner and less muscular than he’d previously known him.

Garak looked in horror at the peice he’d just removed. Maybe it wasn’t armour at all. It _was_ padding.

But, still, its existence was the least of his concerns. He took Julian under the head and encouraged him gently, helping him sit up and turn until his back was to the wall. There was a stripe of blue light behind his head where he rested, and Garak sat on his right, handing him a glass.

But Julian could barely open his eyes, let alone hold a glass, so Garak cradled his cheek and chin, keeping him steady as he raised the glass to his lips.

“Drink,” Garak told him.

Julian’s mouth half-filled with water, and he swallowed twice. Garak let him recover, then gave him more.

Julian started to breathe more deeply, then swallowed, then licked his lips.

“Again.” Garak gave him more water, then moved the glass and drank some himself. Its coolness hit his gullet like a punch, but as it flowed down his body he felt its chill sapping into his system, and caused untold relief. Garak sighed, and offered the doctor another sip.

By now Julian could open his eyes, and seemed reasonably alert. He shut his eyes again and suckled at the edge of the glass as Garak held it to him, letting him gulp and gulp and gulp so desperately. He finished a glass, then eagerly accepted the offer of another.

When the third glass was a few sips from empty, Julian reached up to take it in a shaking hand, and gripped it with great care. Condensation almost made it slip, but he held on.

Julian looked down at himself, and his bare, brown thighs squirmed together as he realised Garak had undressed him completely, save for the part of his turquoise undershirt that hugged around his crotch. The arms and body of it were pooled around him.

“My apologies,” Garak said, taking off the camera that was attached to his own underwear, and throwing it ten feet down the hallway, watching it bounce-bounce-tumble to a halt. “It was your modesty or your life, I’m afraid.”

Cold water soothed, but it did nothing to quell the unbearable heat of the air around them. Garak had been holding back his discomfort for Julian’s sake, but in a moment of rest, it came to him, great pangs of dizziness and a firm desire to lie down and sleep before he passed out unwillingly.

Julian took another sip, swallowed, then offered the glass to Garak.

Garak reached for it – but Julian set glass gently to his lips, tipping the elixir across his tongue. Shock rioted, but Garak swallowed anyway, sure that either he or Julian or both of them were delirious, and that was the only reason Julian was helping Garak drink, and he was letting it happen when he was perfectly capable of doing it himself.

The glass emptied down Garak’s throat, and he let out a wet breath as the glass moved away from him, leaving a trickle of water flowing down his chin. He smeared the drip, then looked to Julian, astounded at his care.

Julian had shut his eyes, pushing the cold glass to his forehead for relief.

Rattled by the sound of grumbling and the _vrooooo_ of a suction cleaner, Julian cocked his head towards the Processor Room curiously.

“Odo’s working on unclogging the vent,” Garak informed Julian, in case that update had escaped his notice. “Our only job now is to stay alive.”

A shaky, amused rasp came from Julian: “Might be easier said than done.”

“Would have been _much_ easier, in fact, had you undressed when I did,” Garak added.

Julian hung his head, perhaps ashamed. He frowned. Then he opened his legs and slid the glass down... down inside the crotch of his undershirt, plucked away from him with two fingers. He rested his head back and gave a gorgeous moan of “Aa _uhhh_ ,” as the glass settled against his genitals.

Garak stared at that, then at Julian’s flushed face. He seemed to be smiling a little.

Intent on increasing that smile, Garak took up a full glass of water, sipped from it, then poured a slosh from the top into Julian’s glass.

Julian yelped, then shuddered, then bit his lip and sighed in delight. “Joke’s on you, Garak,” he murmured. “Feels lovely.”

Garak smirked at him when Julian peeked over. “I only meant for it to feel good, doctor.”

Julian saw the full glass and leaned closer, mouth open. “Ah?”

Garak, although surprised at Julian’s willingness to be unnecessarily dependant, held the glass as he drank. Julian hummed, then inched back and coughed a bit, while Garak took the glass and downed half of what remained in a series of gulps.

“Try it,” Julian urged, giving Garak a dozy look. “Put the glass between your legs.”

“I hardly think that’s necessary.”

“It’s a legitimate medical treatment for hyperthermia, Garak,” Julian murmured. “Cooling the major artery points of the body. Neck, underarms, groin. I promise you it’ll help.”

So Garak lowered the glass and pressed it to his crotch. He snorted as he felt an immediate alleviation of discomfort – not entirely, but enough that he relaxed.

Distantly, Odo went, “A- _ha_! Got you.” The suction cleaner went on _vroooo_ -ing.

“Doctor,” Garak said cautiously, eyeing the pile of padding-filled fabric he’d peeled off his companion. “If it’s not too impertinent of me to ask, what _is_ that thing you were wearing?”

Julian shot him a dull look. “Much too impertinent.”

“It seems to me it’s some sort of...” Garak ran out of words. Not only was his brain not quite working, but any words it did supply made no sense. Nobody would actually want to look _bigger_ , would they? That would be bizarre. Garak had spent much of his adult life trying to look smaller, so to think the opposite was true of his dearest friend was really quite laughable.

“Whatever its purpose... it nearly killed you,” Garak said quietly. “If you’d been alone here, doctor...”

Julian looked at him softly, as Garak looked back.

“Vanity,” Julian whispered. He lowered his eyes and stared into the glass between his thighs. “Vanity, Garak, pure and simple.”

“You _want_ to look... bigger?”

Julian didn’t say anything for a long, long moment.

When Garak took a breath and decided to speak, his thoughts only grazed his consciousness but didn’t quite land there, so he wasn’t convinced he made sense. “In all my years, doctor... I’ve tailored for people of every size, shape, height, weight...” He smiled dazedly, realising, “I’ve only ever thought of the diversity as a delight. Making clothes for the same old shapes over and over would become quite boring. Somehow it never occured to me that a discontentment with one’s figure and a longing ff... for another specific body type would vary per species, or indeed, within each species’ various... cultures.” Confused now, he said, “This shape you’ve been hiding, doctor, you look perfect to me. To nearly all Cardassians you’d be the picture of male beauty. I don’t know what...? Why...?”

“I just want to look more... _more_.” Julian shrugged. He scrounged up the energy to explain, and said, “My metabolism lets me eat anything and not gain weight, and I’m strong, but the strength doesn’t show. Ih—” He paused to collect himself, maybe emotional, maybe too hot to think. “In the Academy. People. Too boyish. Don’t look very capable. She says big things come in small packages but she’s disappointed either way.” Julian exhaled through rounded lips, patting his forehead with the back of a hand. “I just wanted to be taken seriously, that’s all. Came here and. Don’t know. New start. Could be seen differently.”

“You’ve worn this every day for six years.”

“Not always.” Julian rested his head on Garak’s shoulder, which was surprising but pleasant. “Sometimes I take it off when I’m off-duty, or around... partners. I’m not self-conscious about how I look, exactly, I just... hm, don’t know. Makes me _feel_ stronger. Bigger. On the inside. ‘Specially when I’m on the job.”

Garak lifted the glass from his crotch and drank from it, finding the water warm. But Julian wanted some more too, so Garak let him have some, both of them holding the glass at once, Julian closing his eyes.

The glass went back between Garak’s legs and stayed there.

“This explains,” Garak said, “why you never let me measure you for clothes with your shirt off.”

Julian smirked. “Hm. Maybe it was that I know full well you don’t _need_ me to take my shirt off to measure me.”

“On the contrary,” Garak said, distracted briefly as he felt hallway air rushing past him and a deep roaring noise from the Processor Room. “Now I’ve discovered you’re quite a different size than I thought, I’ll have to alter your entire wardrobe to fit.”

“Oh, God, don’t,” Julian complained.

“Then I’ll make you a whole new one,” Garak said. “Beautifully lean. Just for off-duty.”

“Hrgh.” Julian slipped from Garak’s shoulder and rested his head on Garak’s lap, rolling onto his back to look up at him.

Garak stared down, marvelling. Julian’s physical closeness was deeply uncomfortable due to the burning heat, but so desired that Garak didn't think to discourage it. “The heat has quite gone to your head, my dear,” Garak murmured. “You appear to be behaving in ways quite unlike you.”

“You mean the way narrow shoulders and a flat front are ‘unlike me’?”

Garak wasn’t sure how to reply.

Julian took the glass from his own crotch and upended the remaining water over his face, splashing himself and Garak’s lap – then he gave a bubbly laugh, eyes tight shut, teeth showing. Garak shook his head, speechless, but started to grin too.

Julian seemed so untethered now. Delirious – oh, definitely. But he’d moved past vulnerability and into comfort, careless and carefree. He reached up and stroked back his wet hair, humming in contentment.

By now the air coming past was definitely cooler, and Julian stretched out his bare feet to catch the draft between his toes. Garak lifted a hand to feel the sweet relief in his palm, and finally, _finally_ , he could feel air going into his lungs rather than suffocating him with its nothingness on the way down.

  
  


“I still can’t quite understand,” Garak said, letting his hand stroke Julian’s neck before sliding away, “how you hold in your mind an ideal body type that’s the complete opposite of my own. I’d give more than would be considered sensible to be as lithe and willowy as yourself.”

Julian harrumphed. “What _I_ wouldn’t give for some of _this_.” He patted Garak’s plump middle, then got distracted by how it felt, and stroked it instead.

“You want to be fatter?” Garak was utterly perplexed. “Why?”

“Hmmm, looks nice. Round. Good. And you’re all soft and huggable. I cuddle people and I’m all elbows. Must be like hugging a twig.”

“I couldn’t speak to that,” Garak said, settling a hand in Julian’s damp hair, scrunching through it, “as I’ve not yet had the chance of testing the theory.”

Julian cooed at the back of his throat. “My _God_ , Garak. You _were_ flirting.”

Garak chuckled down at him. “Only for six years, my dear. I’ve been waiting to see how long it took you to figure out. It’s been a rather enjoyable operation on my part. Hopefully on yours as well.”

Julian folded his arms, then unfolded him, because it made him hot. Then he said, all forthright and bothered, “Yes, it was. And we’re just going to have to test our Twig Theory, now, aren’t we? Can’t let such an obvious a research opportunity slip away. Unthinkable.”

“Will there be a paper written?” Garak asked in amusement. “ _Thoughts on_... hmm, _Comparative Physical Proportions Between Partners in the Context of Interspecies Snuggles._ ”

Julian snickered. His eyes roamed the dark ceiling grates, then settled back on Garak. “I think it’s a personal project,” he said. “Research notes for private use only.”

Garak stroked Julian’s hot cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I hereby volunteer as your research subject.”

Julian took his stoking hand and kissed it, keeping his eyes on Garak’s. “Accepted.”

Garak was still working up a reply when Odo came out into the hall, looking harried, proud, and dusty, holding the long corrugated tube of his suction cleaner in one hand.

“Odo to Sisko,” Odo said gruffly, free hand to his combage. “Give it an hour or two and then begin bringing ships back to the station. The vent’s back in working order and the computer’s processors are cooling. Things ought to return to functionality soon enough.”

Even as he spoke the main hallway lights flickered and then came on, giving the whole place a crosshatched blue glow.

“ _Acknowledged, Constable. How’s the doctor?_ ”

Garak smiled, and Julian smiled. Julian gave Odo an upside-down thumb’s up.

“Fine,” Odo said.

“ _Better_ than fine,” Julian said. He petted Garak’s middle, then nuzzled it, smiling. Garak laughed because it tickled.

Odo harrumphed. “He and Garak both appear to be suffering the effects of the extreme heat. I’d recommend that the first person to board is another medical officer.”

“ _Agreed._ ”

O’Brien added, “ _Odo, hey, what was it? What was the blockage?_ ”

Odo smiled and gave a rumble of dark satisfaction. “Dust, hair, and other such debris that you solids have a tendency to produce. But in this case I suspect the culprit who assembled the blockage was a Cardassian vole. Its nest at the opening was empty, but no doubt the little warmonger and its friends and family are off doing more damage elsewhere. It purposefully blocked the vent.”

O’Brien huffed in exasperation. “ _So that bastard built its nest where it was warm and then decided it was_ too _warm? Chuh! The nerve!_ ”

“We may have a full infestation on our hands,” Odo warned. “You’d better tell Quark that when we put his refrigerator back we may need it to contain a small and greedy animal.” Odo chuckled, then added, “And maybe we’ll put some voles in, too.”

Julian burst into giggles, then groaned, clutching his head. “Ohhhh, I have such an awful headaaaache.”

“Constable Odo,” Garak said, “if it’s not an imposition, might I trouble you for a couple more glasses of chilled water from the replicator? It seems I rather have my lap full at the moment.”

Odo grunted, but seemed faintly amused. “It would not be an imposition,” he said, and marched off.

Garak carried on holding Julian, and stroking his hair, and keeping that headache at bay the best he could. He marvelled at how lucky he was to be allowed to do such a thing.

The way Julian looked at him... Oh, splendid. Dopey and dizzy and so impossibly pretty, even while flushed red and sticky with sweat.

Garak bowed towards his lap, but was prevented from doing what he wanted by the pudge around his middle. Insulted by himself, he straightened, cross now.

But Julian pouted, dissatisfied by the lack of affection, and struggled his way up to sitting, and took what he was owed. Garak’s eyes widened as his lips were annointed with a very soft, very tender, very unexpected kiss.

“Hm!” Garak stared as Julian pulled back. “My _dear_ doctor...”

Julian searched his eyes. “What? That wasn’t what you were going for?”

“Forehead,” Garak said.

“Oh.” Julian gave an apologetic smile, then ducked a bit to present his forehead to Garak. “Go on, then.”

Garak hesitated, then shut his eyes and kissed Julian’s too-hot skin.

Julian lifted his nose and gave Garak another kiss on the lips, leaning into it, hummmmmmming.

They seperated, Garak stunned, Julian all smirky – and obviously on the edge of crazed.

“Hmnhhh,” Julian said.

Then he flopped against Garak’s front and snuggled chest-to-chest, leaving Garak to pat his back and feel _too hot_ from their converging body heat, but ignoring it for the sake of savouring this much-wanted affection.

The air was actively growing cool now. After despising DS9’s standard temperature of twenty-one degrees centigrade for so many years, Garak was understandably furious to feel a chilly shiver descend his bare and unprotected arms. The worst part was that now Julian was going to want to put his clothes on again and Garak wouldn’t see those tiny little shoulders for an unknown length of time.

Then again, not losing the man he loved to a deadly furnace was the decent upside of his suffering. But even after a day like today – perhaps _because_ of a day like today – Garak would always think of the heat fondly.

  
★  


Julian stared at his reflection. Heart on the edge of pounding. Eyes wide with wonder.

“Well?” Garak asked, from the other side of the changing room curtain. He lifted the edge of it, peeking in. “How does it fit?”

Julian pulled back the curtain to let Garak see.

Garak didn’t tell Julian how good it looked; he waited for Julian to say it himself. It was blindingly obvious that he looked stunning.

Turning this way and that, admiring the back of the uniform, then the front again, Julian shook his head. His shoulders were slim and delicate and they somehow looked _good_ like that. Garak had given him enough bulk in that area to make him feel confident, but kept the cut close to his frame so the shape remained true to his form.

Julian knew every word that existed in the Federation Standard dictionary, and then some, but right now didn’t know any words in any language. He had never seen himself look thin _and_ handsome. The two concepts hadn’t fit together before.

Garak stepped up to him, placing a hand on Julian’s lower back, leaning close to see himself in the reflection too. “I’ve never seen a more capable officer, my dear.”

Julian smiled, gazing tenderly at Garak in the mirror, then turning to look at him in reality. He nudged into a kiss, chin tucked down, lips pursed. He pulled back, blushing. Then he launched into a huge and squishy hug, long arms all the way around Garak’s middle, _squeezing_ and rocking him until both of them laughed aloud, embracing as hard as they could.

“Not so tight, doctor, not so tight! That lunch we shared is still in there somewhere.” Garak patted his middle as Julian finally let go. “Although I’m glad to know your theory proves correct.”

“Which theory?

“I am the best to hug, due to softness.”

“That you are,” Julian agreed. His eyes flicked up as he added, “ _And_ you’re just the best, full stop.”

Garak hummed happily, eyes scrunched as he went for another kiss, this one applied to Julian’s nose. “Now,” he said, “I suggest you run along, doctor. Your friends will want to see your new uniform.”

“Hmm.” Julian took another look at himself, and decided he did look good enough to show off. He took a deep breath and left the changing room, stroking under Garak’s chin as he went.

  
★  


Miles squinted at Julian a lot over the next four hours, hours which Julian spent gushing about Garak and doing odd jobs in Ops while he wasn’t on duty in the Infirmary. Poor Miles didn’t seem to understand what was different, only knowing that something was.

Within the first minute of Julian’s arrival, Jadzia had taken one look across Ops and said, “Nice uniform, Julian. New?”

“Brand new,” Julian replied. “Garak fitted it for me.”

“Suits you,” Jadzia said, knowingly.

Kira glanced up from her console, examined Julian, narrowed her eyes, then took a breath and said, “Did you lose weight? Like, a lot of it? Overnight?”

Julian smirked. “Kind of, yes. You could say that.”

Kira went, “Huh.” And then looked back at her console. “Humans are so _weird_.”

Sisko did a double-take on his way to his office. Then he hmph’ed, shrugged with his lower lip, and carried on as before.

Later that afternoon, Odo was too focused on telling off Quark and didn’t even notice Julian had sat down at the bar. Quark was too busy defending his fridge from incoming voles frozen in cryogenic stasis and also didn’t notice.

Leeta noticed. She patted Julian proudly on the head, and left for the dabo table.

Miles came up to the bar, ordered a pint of synthale, and sat down next to Julian. Still squinting.

“Did something happen to you?” Miles asked, cautiously. “Like, when you— You and Garak. Do you— When you and him— If you do, or are, I mean. Not saying you are, but if you were—”

“Miles, what the hell are you on about?”

“I don’t know what happens when someone like you does it with a Cardassian, that’s all.” Miles took his half-full pint, then scoffed and told Quark to fill it properly. “If I thought going all night with a not-lizard would shave meat off my bones like that... Jeez. More than enough reasons to stay away.”

Julian laughed. “I look smaller – and your conclusion is that I had so much sex with Garak that I spontaneously _shrank_?”

“Well?! Alien-Human relations are pretty much uncharted territory! Not to mention what happens when you bump uglies with the genetically enhanced.”

Julian threw his head back laughing this time. “Miles,” he breathed, shaking his head. “Oh, Miles.”

Miles gulped down some of his drink. “And?” he asked. “Are you?”

“Sleeping with Garak?”

“Yeah.”

Julian smiled, beaming into his own drink. “In the traditional sense, yes.”

“Meaning...?”

“Sleeping happens. Blankets are shared. You might call it... cuddling.”

Miles blinked. “Huh.”

“This isn’t exactly Garak’s doing, for the record. At least not the way you think. Up until now I’ve been wearing a padded undershirt,” Julian said, “that made me look wide-shouldered and muscular.”

Miles snorted into his drink with laughter, and was still chortling and coughing when he’d mopped up the mess with his sleeve. “Oh, right,” he chuckled. “Right, for six years the augmented superhuman doctor’s been pretending to have muscles because he doesn’t have any of his own. Yeah, that’s grand. Nice one, Julian.”

“It’s true.”

“Uh-huh.” Miles still grinned. “Look, I’ll tell you a trick about pulling someone’s leg. At least make it sound halfway believable.”

Julian just grinned and shook his head. “So you’d rather believe I’m having wild all-night sex with Garak that magically makes me thinner, than imagine I might’ve felt physically lacking next to bigger, better-looking, and better-built men like yourself.”

Miles was about to reply, but considered that statement. He gave Julian a thoughtful look, then peered down at his own plump belly. Then back at Julian. Then he laughed. “Hey, that was halfway believable – you do learn fast. Was all in the delivery. Sounded pretty sincere, I’ll give ya that.”

Julian had to contain his laugh as he drank, but still snuffled and almost snorted out his synthale as he lowered the glass. At this point he knew Miles had figured out the confession was serious, but wasn’t going to admit it. So they carried on like it was a joke, and tried not to look at each other too knowingly.

Now Julian let his laugh fade, and he said, more seriously, “Do I look okay like this? Not too small?”

Miles gazed at him with all the loving care of a best friend. “Julian, you look fine. And listen...” He paused, then sighed. “If whatever Garak’s doing with you makes you happy... that’s great. I’m happy for you. Just for God’s sakes, warn me first if you’re going to get any scrawnier. Hugging you’s going to be like hugging a warm _twig_.”

Julian did snort into his drink this time. Violently.

First day on the job and his new form-fitting unform already needed a wash. Well, no matter. It would come back clean in a couple of days. In the meantime... he’d just have to order more.

And maybe a whole new wardrobe to boot.

**{ the end }**

**Author's Note:**

> Please share some things if you enjoyed this, so more people can find my stories ♥  
> ☆ [Art post~!!](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/612079987598704640/heres-an-8k-garashir-fic-smouldering-shoulders)  
> ☆ [Text post with opening lines!](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/612079766523232256/smouldering-shoulders)
> 
> If you liked this, you’d probably enjoy my two snuggle-for-warmth fics [**Viper Viper Vesper Snow**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21700276) (14k, trapped in the freezing holosuite, hurt/comfort smut with plot), and [**Space Family Blanket Fort**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21894280) (6k, it’s cold in Ops, everyone builds a blanket fort and sings together, Garak takes a nap). Oh, and probably [**Kindness and Kukalaka**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746865) (5k, Garak rescues Julian’s teddy bear, Miles rescues Garak, Julian is happy). Aaaaah, it’s so good to have enough fics that I can now recommend ‘most similar’. :D
> 
> I’ve still got 111k+ of Garashir fic to post in the coming weeks. [Subscribe for author notifications if you want those fics in your inbox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi)!!  
> And [here’s ALL the others to read while you wait~](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Bfandom_ids%5D%5B%5D=8474&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&user_id=almaasi)
> 
> Sending love and health and uncommonly good fortune to you, fellow Humanoids and assorted space friends. I hope nice things seek you out and find you. ♥  
> Elmie x
> 
> ~~P.S. If you’re interested in beta’ing those upcoming Garashir fics for me, please[check out this post](https://almaasi.tumblr.com/post/612028029355638784/yoooooooooo-im-in-need-of-a-beta-or-betas-for). (Post made 9th March 2020, I will cross this out when I’ve found someone.)~~


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